


We Are Cheering. We, We Are Cheering.

by manspirations



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fired Up AU, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Lacrosse, M/M, Movie AU, Thiam End Game, cheerleading
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:37:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manspirations/pseuds/manspirations
Summary: 2 Guys. 300 Girls. They Wish.Theo & Liam are known around their small sleepy High School for two things: Lacrosse and Scoring Snatch. Girls love them and guys beg to be them, but then they realize Beacon Hills has run out of fresh punany. After a run in with their school's despicable cheerleaders, they turn to Theo's hateful little sister to enact their craziest scheme yet: Cheer Camp.A Fired Up AU for the Thiam Movie AU Fest





	1. The Hotel Debacle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ithinkwehaveanemergency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithinkwehaveanemergency/gifts).



> [Gifset](https://manspirations.tumblr.com/post/169444762488/we-are-cheering-we-we-are-cheering-by) | [Soundtrack Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/minna.pritchard/playlist/3iSxFkyOooEP7dbFSbIc6J)
> 
>  
> 
> Also quick disclaimer: there's mild objectification of women coming your way that rings true with the movie. Nothing offensive or anything, but I'm putting it out there, in case.

Theo never understood why other kids his age complained so much when they dealt with so little. Every day, he heard a variation of the same thing: 

_Dammit, she just pisses me off you know?_

_Like, how do they expect me to do three pages of math, read an entire book, and write an essay by tomorrow?!_

_Nah man, I can’t come out tonight, my parents are being douchenozzles again. Why don’t they just get divorced and do us all a favor?_

Complaint after complaint after complaint.

Of course, life fucked him in the keister sometimes, but for the most part, it came easier to him. Lacrosse came easier. Dealing with his family came easier, though his bratty little sister might definitely be the exception. School came easier. Making friends and doing the bare minimum came easier.

This certainly came easier to him.

“Mmm, baby,” Brandi...no, Brielle--no no, Breedan, rapsed over his ear, feathering hot breath along his outer shell. He shuttered from the tingle of it and pulled her closer. Her insistence, the slow glide of her hands down his pecs, contrasted with the chill of her palms and the fire of her skin. With a nibble, she tweaked his nipple, then laughed as he jolted from the couch. “You. Were. So. Good. Tonight,” The words pierced in time with her hips, halting the stream of what he really wanted to say. That he was ALWAYS good at whatever he did.

But, they’d only scored the Penthouse for an hour and a half and if he didn’t move this along, he’d be slinking home with bluer balls than that one time at lacrosse camp.

“It was all for you,” he gagged internally even as they sparked a shiver through her, her words slicker than freshly shaven legs on silk sheets. Oh, silk sheets, maybe they could call down for some.

Theo tried hoisting her up, a silent “we-need-to-move-this-to-the-bedroom. And for a moment, she actually let herself be cradled in her arms, her eyes widening at the bulge of his arms. Her eyes, now darkened by inhibition and lust, glazed as she clung to them. He knew they were finally, moving in the right direction.

So, he edged her again, his knees almost straight from a full stand, “Every shot. Every block. Babe, your love and the rapid beat of this heart-” A squeal came from her, three octaves too high this late at night. He hoped it wasn’t an indication of the noises she’d make once he was rocking into her, taking what they both want. “You inspired all 14 points.”

Someone coughed behind them, one of those dry, pointed coughs meant more to send a message than release germs.

“13.5 points, since someone just assisted.”

Another cough, this one even louder.

He couldn’t see Liam, on account of the physical person in his arms and to lean away from her simply to make eye contact with his buddy would raise some eyebrows, so he cackled, tightening his grip on her thighs. “13.5.”

“Aww, Theo. 13. 14, who cares?” Suddenly, they were crashing back to the couch. His arms stretched over the couch’s edge to keep them from teetering backward and she took it as an excuse to feel him up even more. “Fuck, I can’t wait,” she batted whiskey-swirled brown eyes, as her waterfall of jet black hair cascaded around him, plastering her chest to his. This time, when she kissed him, she took the control, which Theo gladly gaze to her, gliding her tongue along his bottom lip, begging for entry.

He could feel her own hand unclapsing the bra he’d fashioned perfect plans for the second he’d gifted her the privacy of a California King bed.

They never did this in the open, they being him and the asshole plastered over the couch across from them. Well, once twins gave them blowjobs, but Theo could feel Liam spread out next to him as he blinked up at the ceiling, praying the moment and Twin #2’s tongue never ended. Back then, he only felt the fabric give and take from the puncturing shift of Liam’s hips, heard his unsyncopated rasps, over the swirl of spit and feminene moans. He barely made it out then and they were only talking blowies.

Masking his panic, he caught Liam’s gaze the moment he looked around her bare torso, Liam’s own girl shielding all but his ruffled head. Those cerulean blue eyes peered straight through him, as if looking, but not seeing. Even as what’s her name marked herself downward, Theo felt his retinas burn from the stare, despite the fact he’d seen a riled up Liam before, many many times before. Despite all the times they’d done this, he’d never watched, front row, as Liam drug fingers in a girl’s loose strands, yanking them back into a messy ponytail. Or punctured his hips from the frenzy of wanting friction, hell, any kind of release. Theo wrapped his arm tighter around Brianca; he could pretend his throbbing dick was a direct result of her bare nipples feathering down his chest.

Just before his eyes drifted shut, Theo caught the moment Liam’s presence returned to his gaze, those eyes finally properly seering into him. Off all the things Theo expected--cold panic, breaking their gaze-- he never expected Liam to extend his free hand slowly, then flip him off, his eyesbrows wiggling.

Snorting, Theo winked back.

If Liam didn’t care, Theo certainly wasn’t spending any more seconds fretting over it, not when they had less than an hour to enjoy. Besides Liam wouldn’t be here, with a sexy piece on his lap, one pair of boxers from the best beejer of his week without the careful planning and all around baddassery it took for Theo to sneak them into this hotel. Think, wrinkly skin and bifocals, then cringe for a decade.

He shuttered, the hotel manager’s phantom touch still crawling over his skin. Luckily, Brandella took the oppourtunity to wrap her mouth around his dick, heat immediately overwhelming him. “Oh god,” his head knocked back against the cushion.

Tonight. He would 100% recommend doing again.

“-Sirs. You can’t be in here without a reservation.”

“My daughter’s phone is in THIS room-” The door handle jiggled, then thrashed.

He popped up, the force sending Breelan with a thunk onto her side, “Oooww, what the fuck, dude.” She cradddled her jaw, sending a miniscule amount of remorse through his bones. Not enough to help her up, as he scruitinized the door.

“Sir-sir, I have to ask you to leave. There’s no need to cause-” The kid’s voice shook like his life depended on escorting the man, from the sound of it, the furious man, out.

“You want a scene?” His voice thunder, “Amanda!”

If the pulsating metal didn’t jolt Liam from his pre-sex trance, the bashing of wood certainly did. From his spot, gripping his t-shirt and freezing behind the coffee table, Theo watched Liam gently extract the girl from her lap with a hissing, “Shit.”

The man’s voice struck again, this time threatening to burn the door from its henges.

“My dad,” Liam’s girl covered her breasts with one of the lace pillows, as if they all hadn’t all gotten the show less than a moment ago. He wanted to share that sentiment when another thump ricocheted around them, the wood pratically splintering around its edges.

“Brianna, open this damn door right now.”

“Crap, my dad too."

_Brianna!!! He knew it started with a ‘Br.’_

Flinging his shirt on, Theo retreated until his back collided with the lookout window, twelves stories above their neighboring city, with no escape but the rumbling door.

All of that, and Liam’s gaze flickered between the two girls, “You two are sisters?” As if that’s what mattered in this moment. “Shit.”

“Shit is right,” Theo forced through clenched teeth.

“It’s ok,” Liam’s girl, Amanda, was blubbering in the corner, tears starting to accumulate in her eyes. “We can get through this...” She sniffled and reach out to wrap her arms around his boy’s neck, trying and simultaenously failing to pull him toward her. Theo couldn’t help the burst of laughter shooting through him, the poor helpless puppy. “I think-” Her words halted by the rattling frame, bubbling a squeak from her. Rather than share for all to hear--as if they were curious--she attached herself to Liam’s neck, whispering those three dreaded words that once were said, could never be taken back.

Even Brianna, now hovering by the fireplace, with a poker gripped tight in the air, her eyes bloomed the size of small olives. His abs ached from gasping air refusing to come to him.

One moment Liam was holding her hand, the next a body--too hard, sweaty, and ridged for a female--collided on top of him. He sucked in a breath from the pressure of Liam baring down on him, the jutt of Liam’s tailbone digging into his gut.

The pressure’s only relief came after Theo forced him to the ground, both of their backs now cooling from the condensation of the window pane.

“Do something,” Liam hissed, smacking Theo’s pecs with the force of three linebackers, “This was your idea.”

“That you went along with,” he fired back, rubbing a palm over his already-reddening boob. “Fuck, you know I bruise easily.”

“Seriously! That’s what you’re worried about right now,” Liam’s scowl increased as the sound of shifting bodies and scuffling signaled the presence of more employees, no doubt trying to subdue Thunder Dads from beating them to a bloody pulp. “We’re dead. We’re dead,” Liam susurated, his head shaking furiously, “I’m never listening to you again.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining when Amanda here had her mouth on your-”

Two pillows, one from said blushing wannabe-bride and one from her friends, smacked him in the jaw, sealing the rest of that sentence forever inside of him. Apparently today was abuse Theo day and he hadn’t gotten the email.

Outside, the nervous wreck spoke again, “--We’ve called security sir! I will not open this door.”

Right on time, the whirling elevator’s ding floated through the halls and under their door crease. At the realization of possible law enforcement, Liam’s chest began to heave. “I’m too attractive for jail.”

They, at least, agreed on something.

“Relax, puppy. We got this!”

“Relax?” His volume tripled, throwing his hands at the door. “Relax! We’re trapped in an unbooked Penthouse, 12 stories in the air...”

“...Like I don’t know this,” his eyes half-rolled, as he calculated the room’s crevices and doors, a plan finally forming in his mind.

“And, she bit off my zipper!”

He paused his mental game, flickering down to Liam’s crotch. Sure enough, his jeans split opened, its metal zipper dangling between the two halfs, baring all for them to see. Theo smirked; he told him to bring an extra set of clothes for after the game.

“Don’t stare,” Liam whacked the same pec again, this time with the back of his hand.

“What the hell?” And just when the tingling started to abate. Theo retaliated by smacking his palm over the hole in Liam’s jeans, the crack mixing with the resulted cracking screech. “I’m reporting you for abuse. You put it out there!”

“She put it out there so report yourself!” He pointed directly at poor Amanda, the girl now standing behind her friend/sister as her cowering eyes flickered between them and the door.

Meanwhile, Brianna side-eyed them with gleaming intent, her brows defying gravity, particularly lingering on the hand he'd molded over Liam’s thigh.

Rather than snatch his hand back, he squeezed tighter, all the while glimmering back. The move elicited a hushed gasped from Liam, one he forced himself not to dwell on.

Especially when the other side of the door went silent. Adding to the kerfuffle a suspension in the air like they’d dropped into a thriller, and the killer was currently in the room with his machete, confident in his kil.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Tell me you have a play.” Liam dipped his head, so that his ear aligned perfectly with Theo’s mouth.

“You know I have a play,” The past minutes, he’d been visualizing an escape route, one wrong move after the other, the right ones replacing it, instead. “Ok, pup,” He cleared his throat, “Leave nothing, Y formation, Behind the Couch, Dodge the Storm, Back Stairs, Need for Speed.” In non-them speech, get your ass to the car and I’ll drive us the hell out of here.

Liam was shaking his head as faintly, someone with a steady hand and an even steadier temperment slid the card in the lock, waiting moments for the door to click.

Together, they all inhaled. Without making a sound, Theo slid his shoe under the couch until they clanked softly against metal. Dragging them as close as he could, he slide the keys home, cradling in his palm.

“Ready?” he murmured.

Liam nodded once, making him grin at Liam’s new determined glare. Finally, the hardcore resolve Theo came to know showed its face, the eerie silence no longer deteriorating him into a sniveling priss.

Silently, they bumped fist, a nonformal “break” in the milisecond it took for the door to bust open, slamming against the wall hard enough to imprint a half circle. Two burly men blurred in his vision. He did see them breaking through the threshold, muscles adorned in singlets. If he and Liam weren’t All Star, Cal State Champions three years running, Theo would be quaking at their size. But, they were and if the assholes wanted to beat them, they’d have to catch them first.

Right away, the Dads zeroed in on their girls immediately, which Theo counted on them doing. The moment they each thundered to their off-spring, he and Liam shared a single solitary look from behind their respective couches and burst into the madness.

Shouts. Screeches. Crashing vases. None of it stopped him. The rapid velocity siphoned away his ability to laugh but, his smile skewered as he juked past scrambling Dad #1, a confused bellhop, and two Rent-A-Cops to break from the room, tearing down the side halls.

He bounded down the black steps three at a time, worried for a moment that he didn’t hear a pair of clobbering feet behind them. Then, Liam’s body, or the blur of Liam’s body, shot past him in a casual glide down the gold railing. In unison, Theo ran in unison with Liam’s slide leading him.

Literally, in less time than it took Thunder Dads to break from the room AND run down one story, the two of them were breaking from the emergency side exit, pulsing, red alarms filling every crevice, hallway, and room in the place. He was glad he thought to park the truck right there, hidden behind to overflowing dumpers.

Beneath the resonating blare and the rumble of his truck, he could hear Liam’s laughter and that was enough to quell his own mental alarms.

Slamming on the gas, he reversed them onto ongoing traffic, the truck blending seemlessly into Sacramento’s nightly traffic. Four lights later, afer, his pulse had finally slowed to an even crawl, Theo felt his body slouch into his seat.

Suddenly, neon red and blue shot past, two defeaning sirens and one fire truck joining them. Even in the dimmly-lit car, Theo could see Liam’s jaw drop first, then his eyes blooming at the shocking realization. They did that. All those people, standing outside, wrapped in plush robes and wet hair bonnets, freezing their asses off because of them. When he couldn’t hold it in anymore, his cheeks blooming like they might explode, then Theo finally let go, throwing his head back as his foot attacked the gas.

Liam’s began in sputters, first low, and shocked then growing and growing until the only thing he could hear was the product of their voices, oddly melodic in their otherwise still surroundings.

“Never, ever again,” Liam said finally, coming down from the high.

Theo tsked, “So, next weekend?”

“Next weekend.”

They shared one more smirk, Theo interspersing his with occassional peeks at the cars surrounding them. The look dissolved in a sigh as Theo merged for the highway, headed straight for Beacon Hills. He watched the city-scape grow smaller behind them, the buildings luminescence being swallowed by the incoming shadows of the highway.

He relaxed back against the new silence settling over them. His aunt always said a relationship’s true character always showed its in the silence, not when energy swelled and conversations flowed. Any two people could strike a conversation, but could they occupy the same space without constant words, incessant noise? Could they get past the suffocating sensation of awkward silence?

Like much of his life, those silences with Liam came easy to him. Honestly, everything about Liam came easy to him, ever since they met when Liam’s family moved to Beacon Hills in the Fifth Grade. He snuck another glimpse at his friend--his legs propped up against the dash, eyes drifting in and out of conciousness, his face illuminated only by the occasional street light and the blue hint of the truck’s radio. Yet seeing him content like this, a small part of Theo also couldn’t picturing the contrast of him rithing, groaning earlier.

He shifted in his chair, tearing his eyes away, the urge to still his jittery hands increasing. As the truck ate miles, bringing them closer and closer to home, he couldn’t help but wonder if that easiness was changing.

 


	2. Cheer Camp? Plan B

The day after the Hotel Debacle-as they’d coined it--Theo expected to pull up at his house with two cops scanning for his hidden presences as two others canvased the joint. One day passed. Two days. Three. The only people to evade his place were Liam, Mason and Corey, eating all their food like normal. By Friday of the following week, seven whole days and two other girls test-driving his bed later, he'd forgotten that night happened. Well, the normal parts of that night, the other, Liam-centric stuff flitted to the edges of his mind whenever he lingered on one action for too long: shelping cereal into his pie-hole before 8AM, driving to school, sitting through mind-numbing classes, while coach spit-slapped them in the face as he announced this summer’s Lacrosse Camp plans.

Even right now, as Liam shoved book after book into his locker, rambling about some month-long physics project they'd gotten today. "And, Ms. Blake assigned me to Hayden so now I have to be with my ex-girlfriend for four wee-" Theo vaguely heard the thump of a locker slamming shut, "Are you even listening to me?" 

"No. Not really," He flipped back on autopilot, the words jerking him from his own thoughts. With the haze of reality clearing, he focused on Liam's crossed arms next to him, the beginnings of a scowl already forming, "Can she be an ex-girlfriend if you went out in middle school?" 

"It still counts." Liam grunted, but they both knew it didn't.

"Nothing before the boys dropping is a relationship," he flicked his own locker shut, then started their trek toward freedom, "What did you even do? Fumbled through boring conversations and pretended you knew how to kiss?" The infamous Liam x Hayden went out in the year before Theo acknowledged Liam as a person, an archaic time when he spent most of his days following around Mason and pretending to be a nice, polite human being. Six years later and Theo was still forced to hear random bouts of Hayden praise. 

"She was actually kind of fun."

Theo could hear the pout in his voice, without looking at him. His tolerance for Hayden speech expired years ago, which is why he shrugged it off, "Too bad she hates you now." 

"Yeah, cause I hang out with you." 

A snort fell from him as he threw a wave at another girl attempting to stop them, "She should be thanking me. I taught you how to be a real boy." 

"You threw Playboy centerfolds at my face and told me to lick it."

He paused, nostalgically thinking about their late middle school days, them giggling as they locked themselves in his room with stolen Playboy mags between them and the one Playgirl he found under his mom's bed in front of a cautiously intrigued Mason. 

Thinking back on it, there was probably a reason they turned out the way they did, "And now you know how to lick it. You're welcome. I'll accept cash, card, or check." 

"How about you accept me not punching you in the face the next time you do something stupid?" 

At that moment, the universe decided Hayden and her gaggle of cheerleaders should cruise toward them at turtle speed, Liam's head snapping up immediately. He said goodbye to his witty comeback. 

 _"So are you pumped for cheer camp or what?"_ She chirped over the chatter of other students. Her ponytail swung around from one side of her neck to the other as she dimpled at her friends. Too innocent, he'd always thought. She was always saying the right things, doing the nicest favors, even hanging out with the right type of respectable girls. Someone with that perfect of a record wanted to keep something locked in tight.

"I know, right?!" The one wearing the Marvel leggings said, her ass as flat as the writing on them,"We've gotten better."  _No they hadn't._ "We definitely have a shot at winning." _They probably didn't,_ he thought as they paused at a bank of lockers. 

"Whatever, we don't stand a chance. 300 other girls who are better than us,"The stoic one contrasted, her voice a bland monotone. He'd spent the worse half of 9th grade trying to score her, so he should remember her name, M-M-something, Mary? Mahalia? 

"-Yeah, And want it just as much as we do." The final one, Tracy, cracked her knuckles, nodding. He'd hooked up with her last month, recently enough for her name to have some value in his life. She jostled her books from her left side to her right, pushing her already low top even lower. Yeah, he remembered those babies perfectly. 

Then, like Einstein's lightbulb, something triggered in him. If the best way to get over somebody was to get under someone else, then he could stop getting into somebody by getting under multiple someone elses. "Pup," he grabbed Liam's arm, pulling him into the nearest classroom on their right. "Let's go to cheer camp."

Liam's eyes bloomed for a second, then they crinkled from the intensity of his laugh. When Theo didn't laugh with him, instead crossing his arms tight, he simmered, "You're serious? Cheer Camp, no." 

"Think about it. 300 Girls. That we don't know." 

"What's wrong with the hundreds of girls we do?"

"You've porked them all."

"Me?! You've hit more than I have."

"Don't play innocent," he clicked his teeth, feeling light-headed from the back and forth. Sometimes, their brains bounced off one another so rapidly, he'd forgotten to do mundane things, like breathe or pause before speaking. "You know you want this too. Two weeks. We hook up like crazy, then ditch for Mason's house the last." Every year, they endured two weeks of 6 hour practices and ball-sweating scrimmages for one whole week at Mason's parents' lake-house--no parental supervision, no rules, pure fun. "If we're lucky we can bring some of the entertainment with us." 

He could sense when the appeal started to wear on Liam's goody two-shoes resolve, stony expression shifting from annoyance to mild intrigue. Decided, he pushed from the privacy of the room at the exact moment the girls reached it.

"Hey Liam," Hayden's smile cracked the slightest bit of her hardened exterior, then she turned to stone again to address him, "Other one." 

Theo reached out and plucked a stray paper end from her hair, letting it fly in front of her face. She sneered as the paper, that was stuck in _her_ hair, landed in a wistful grace on her notebook. "Hayden-"

She cut him off, "Wait, let me guess. You've decided I'm the answers to all your prayers, my eyes whisper forever, and I'm like your little toe cause you're gonna bang me on _every_ piece of furniture in your house?" Her entourage snickered around her, with the exception of the serious one, who joined in defaming his existence with her eyes.  

"No, but I like that last one. Mind if I steal it?" 

She scoffed, "Pig. What do you want, Theo?" 

"Only to wish you good luck at Cheer Camp," he started, personally beaming at each other the girls, "You girls, we don't give you enough credit, you know? You represent our school so well with your pom poms and your stunts and your flips." 

"Cut the shit, Casanova," Another voice sparked into the conversation. 

"Seriously..." He racked his brain for her name, seconds fading into longer seconds, as they shifted their hips, blinking. " _Malia,"_ Liam whispered on a barely-audible cough. "...Malia, we see you doing your thing and we hope you kick the shit out of those 300 other girls." 

"Whatever. I'm bored. Let's go." Malia spared them one more sneer then she split them to stalk past, Marvel Leggings trailing after her, Tracy following behind both of them. Hayden lingered one second to nod at Liam before she was joining them, her shoulders forcefully knocking Theo back as she did. 

"That went well." Liam followed the motion of their bodies until they merged with the chaos of escaping bodies. True, they may have laid it on too thick, especially for a group of girls who already despised them.  "Plan B?" Liam's smirk told him exactly what Plan B meant and he refused to result to that.  

"No. No. No."  

"Come on," Then, it was Liam's turn to force him out into fresh air and into the truck. He knew they’d decided to go through with this--Cheer Camp, Squad, 300 Girls. But, the reality of Plan B hadn't struck him until Liam was still pulling him up the stairs in  _his_ own house. “Fuck me,” Theo groaned, shuffling back until his ankles knocked against the hallway wall. Liam snorted, pushing in behind him, his hands digging into Theo’s shoulders harder at his exclamation. They stood at the beginning of the dimly-lit hallway, Theo clinging to the stair railing with his life. If only he were on acid right now (or at least shrums), he could blame the shrinking walls on his mental capacity.

Liam shrugged beside him, canting his right side against the wall, as if they weren’t about to sell themselves to the devil...devil-adjacent. This called for immediate panic, not calm complacency. Piercing death metal emanated from under the door, causing him to jump again and Liam to snort.

“Is that--” Liam paused, sniffing the air around them. Theo heard the exact phrase to spew from his mouth about a million times by now. _I think your mom bought home chicken,_ Theo mimicked mentally, watching as Liam’s eyes crinkled with anticipation of using his favorite insult.

“Yeah I think so,” Liam sniffed, “Did your mom make chicken?”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious,” Liam deadpanned back, pushing off the wall. His shoulders twitched, first up, then down, as they usually did when he grew restless. This time, Theo gave a rat’s ass, many rats’ assess. rats’  _assi_?

Point was, they could stand in this gateway to doom all day, as long as his feet never shuffled any closer. The death metal intensified, the walls now shaking from the sound of someone angrily shitting while they sang. “Theo...” Liam expelled a pouty sigh. “She’s fifteen.”

“-The age of the devil.”

“We need her to pull this off-” Theo opened his mouth, ready to spout his Plan C to their already failing Plan B and the Plan D to both of those, but Liam beat him to it. “No, we can’t--Not enough time. Or energy, and I’m not getting almost arrested again.”

And, then his body was forcibly shoved closer and closer, Liam’s sweaty palms searing his spine through the thin shirted layer. They fought back and forth with each step.

“I can’t,” he tossed out, trying to pivot for the stairs.

Liam retaliated with a harder shove, “-you can.” They were closer now, passing the door to his room entirely. Only a few more steps and their toes would scrape the gates of hell.

Theo wracked his brain for the one statement that might sway Liam to see the light. “She bit me yesterday.”

“Well, don’t make fun of her greasy hair today.”

“You just did!”

“No,” Liam pinched him enough to spike a jolt in him. “I’m stating facts. Again, you threw two bottles of _Head and Shoulders_ at her and yelled, 'learn something.' Besides...” Liam pinched his cheeks. He somehow managed to duck Theo’s punch to the gut while still clinging to his cheeks. “...all Raekens love me. I’m Raeken cat-nip.”

So full of himself. “You’re gonna be Raeken target practice in a minute.”

Before Liam could retaliate, a voice startled them.

“Creepers, what?!” Tara’s prepubescent grouch sliced through the physical barriers of her closed door and through the playful energy whipping around them. They sobered, pinched expressions as their heads slowly drifted to face the black-abyss of her door. He might as well have X-Ray vision these days with the accuracy of how well he could picture her growling at them from the middle of her bed, an inky journal in her lap. He guaranteed she’d be half-writing angsty poetry and half burning hexagrams into the margins, her stringy black hair draped over her face like she was prepping for a breakout role on the Ring.

When they didn’t respond, she growled over the drumming screech of her beloved _Five Finger Death Punch_. The fact that he even knew the obscure band name disgusted him. The man was blaring something about the "wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell."

His nose shriveled at the base contact of the notes hitting his ear; no one wonder their mom was constantly shoving Spa Days and Shopping Sprees up her ass.

“Hello?! How about you not stand at my door, queerbos?”

Liam’s entire face brightened from the full strength of his amusement, “Your family’s such a delight.”

“The worse,” he countered, allowing himself to revel in one scenario of her cruel, satisfying death before he was kicking the door open, revealing the bottom layers of hell to them.

Without them even practicing, they poke their heads in, slanting smiles in a false compliance, “Heyyy Rara.”

She barely glanced up from where she sat, at the foot of the bed with her journal thrown opened before her. He snorted; really, it was a gift he wasn’t proud of. “What do you want? Mom’s not home.”

Theo glared, crossing his arms tight as if they could help him reign in his thoughts. “Obviously,” managed to fly out before he could stop himself. Liam rewarded him with a kick to the heels, the force enough to buckle his knees. Had he not caught himself, he’d be face down on her stained, unclempt carpet.

“What Theo means is how are you, Rara?”

The moment Liam’s voice--soft and charismatic--blew over her, she predictably picked up her head, even though it displayed a scowl. She first gave him the full wattage, her hair moving stiffly in strands as her eyes tore through him. Then, resistantly, she drug them across the wide space between him and Liam, who situated himself at her Bay Window. 

Theo flicked his gaze over too, his eyes immediately slitting. Golden beams of the fading sun curled around the tips of Liam's hair as if a painter sculpted him in likeness with those glass cathedral portraits. Show off, he snorted at the sanguine glow returning to his sister's pasty cheeks. They reddened with every second her eyes feasted on Liam's tiny, casual grin. 

Meanwhile, Theo was standing off to the side, his own grin diminishing as he witnessed her shoulders deflate years worth of tension and resentment. Maybe, Liam really was Raeken Catnip, though he damn sure hoped he didn't look that thirsty in their interactions. That train of thought, of course, had him scraping for moments where he’d subconsciously gazed at Liam the same way. Thankfully, none came to him in the time it took for her to notice his upticking eyebrows and squinting disapproval. She sneered, tearing her gaze away once she did.

“I don’t have whatever it is you want, so leave,” she punctuated with the slam of her journal.

“-Actually,” Liam pivoted to face both of them, forcing the light to strike his left side, now illuminating the tan expanse of his muscles in his t-shirt. The move had Theo coughing into crossed arms as Liam ran a relaxed hand through his gel-free hair. He was really laying it on thick this time, unlike every other time they enacted this plan of swaying his sister to function like a human being. She might have thought no one heard he wistful sigh, but Theo was all ears. He filed the moment in his blackmail bank. Liam brought it home with an effortless flex, “There’s one thing you could do.”

In sync, they faced her, Liam leaning again the pane, half glaring at him for not helping more, half smoldering her way, and him, against the door, one foot already escaping.

She pushed her stilted locks back from her face and Theo smirked. Hook. Line. Sinker. Like taking candy from a baby. That his mom forced him to hold.

She glared pointedly between the two of them, waiting for one of them to take the lead. “My God! Speak.”

“Touchy,” Theo slapped his mouth shut. Her hair fell back into place. Shit, not a good move at all. To avoid Liam’s grimace, he rolled his eyes, “We wanna go to that cheerleading thing mom’s been making you go to.”

“And since you’re getting so good at the showing emotions thing with all your JV practices,” Liam added after him, “Theo thought he’d give it a try.”

Pst, yesh. If showing human emotion got him more putang and the concept wasn’t tied to his little sister’s name, then sure, they could go with that. Somehow, in their haste to explain, he’d gravitated once again to Liam’s side, the sun blinding him full force.

He watched her blink. Once. Twice. Three Time. “So, it finally happened,” she crossed her legs. For the first time in at least three years, her lips split in a crooked grin, making them flick nervous glimmers at the door. He wasn’t afraid of much in the world, but his sister finding joy in a situation, that topped the list. Outstretching her arms, she framed her face, “I’m going to be so rich.”

Liam looked at the side of his face, then her, then his face again. “Did we miss something?”

“Other than me betting $400 dollars you two would blow through every girl in school before Senior year? Nope!” Her elation displayed plainly from the happy tap tap of her fingernails on her screen to the new rosy-lilt of her usual monotone voice.

He snatched her phone; you could call it the brotherly inclination in him, his brotherly duties. Cheerleading must have improved her reflexes. He remember the good ole days when he could snatch her bacon and eat it before she moved an inch. This time, she was quick to dig her nails into the phone’s silicone case, clinging so tight to the case, her body drug alongside the bed with the force of his pulling.

“Give it back, cunt monster,” her screeching meshed perfectly with the guy bemoaning about death from each of her four Bose speakers.

At the same time, Liam interjected, “Not every girl. Like 60%," completely unfazed by the gremlin trying to bite his arm off. No doubt a testament to Liam’s prolonged exposure to the madness in their house. The last time Theo invited Mason, Corey, and some of the other LAX bros over, the lot of them blinked, stricken gazes at them when he and his sister fist-fought over the last Hot Pocket.

“Ehh,” Theo swayed his head back and forth, “65.” When he finally got the device loose, he lobbed the thing in Liam’s direction, who let it flop against the carpet at his feet.

“-Definitely, no more than 70.” Liam countered, simply looking down before turning to him, as if mentally asking, _“Was I supposed to catch that filthy thing?”_

“75%. Final counter,” he flipped back the same, squinted, _Yessss, Asshole!_

The lapse in time gave Tara ample opportunity to scramble for it, but she reached it the same time Liam bent down to pick it up between his thumb and forefinger. Instead of douching it out with Theo, Liam rubbed the screen clean on his jeans and extended it, innocently blinking at her fuming face with those piercing baby blues.

Suck up, Theo sneered his way, rolling slow eyes as Liam shrugged smugly in return. Tara might as well wear the sign, “Liam Trash.” It’d certainly be more subtle than the ruddy, intensity of her blush. That same burn, starting in the pit of his stomach and blazing upward, alighted every nerve in him. He tried to stop the sudden shift in his mood, the outburst, but both of his hand and mouth decided to rebel today.

“Will you help us or what?” He shoved her, gentle enough to avoid being told on but hard enough to throw some distance between her and the desire of her stupid affection.

Even though, she glared with the intensity of a thousand hellhounds and flicked him off, she said, “Fine, but only if he drives me everywhere I want to go for the rest of the year.”

“Done,” Liam jumped in on his behalf.

Theo swung to address him, then her. “No.”

“Yes.” Liam hissed again, nodding his head.

“Those are my terms. Take them,” she blushed at Liam, “OR, get out.” Then, transformed all that love and teenage fluff into rage, snapping directly at him.

“We’ll take them,” Liam’s insistence contrasted with his own, “-We’ll get out,” he rasped, “ _Dude,_ That’s 9 months.”

“ _Dude_ , after cheer camp, a month will feel like a week.”

“What-What the hell does that even mean?” He exclaimed, words much louder now that he could feel his days, nights, and weekends being high-jacked by nerdy goth girls and failed emo dates. He did not work everyday for the last two summers to afford his truck, just so the stench of Hot Topic and Polyester could seep into his interior leather.

“It doesn’t matter,” Liam’s growl meant they were done discussing it and the moment Theo argued otherwise was the moment he’d feel that same foot from earlier in his ass. So, he curbed the string of profanities and insults primed for the slaughter and bit through his matching grin. “Rara, you got yourself a deal!” Liam shook her hand.

"Whatever. Get the hell out," She batted his hand away, only after she'd already pumped it with her sweaty palms. Theo didn't have to be told twice. He smacked her journal closed, flipped her off, and swaggered out to the beautiful cadence of her cursing him out. "5AM Tomorrow, Backyard!"

"We'll be there at 8," he shouted back.

Before his door slammed shut, finally a whole two walls and insulation separating them, he heard the faintest chuckle then, "Have fun screwing, bitches!" 

 _Jesus,_ Theo tripped over the threshold to his room; he squinted as the door slammed shut behind them. He knew she'd said it to taunt him, her go-to dig when she couldn't use that tiny brain of hers to comment on any of his other weaknesses. Always Liam. Instead of his usual 'fuck off,' he yelled back, "Don't worry, we will," wiggling his eyebrows at Liam as he did.   

"She's gonna think we're actually in here throwing down now."

"Throwing down? That's what we're calling it?"He joked, though the thought did occur to him. However, the lack of anything clawing at his chest made him realize he barely cared, "Better you and me, than you and her. Never you and her." 

"Jealous?" Liam reached out to snap on the TV, shaking his head as he did. But, Theo said not a word in response, rather threw the controller at him. "Told you, I'm Raeken Cat-nip." He was something alright. This Cheer Camp thing better work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is purely indulgence for me wanting a normal unhealthy sibling relationship between Theo and his sister, rather than the portrayal of them in canon, which took that word to a whole new category.
> 
> Actual cheer camp next, yay!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I feel truly inducted into the fandom, since this is my very first Thiam fic posted!  
> More chapters to come <3


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